


Tea and Sympathy

by DementedPixie



Series: Demented Pixie's SPN Fic [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s13e23 Let the Good Times Roll, F/M, M/M, Post-Season/Series 13, Season Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 20:00:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15150749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DementedPixie/pseuds/DementedPixie
Summary: Sam's not the only one who wants Gabriel back.





	Tea and Sympathy

“Cup of tea, Giant?”

Sam jerked his head upwards in response, blinking in surprise at the sudden approach of the feisty red head. 

“Erm, yes. Thank you.”

Rowena placed the cup of tea on the table then sat opposite him, delicately sipping at her own drink. 

“You’ve been staring at that book for a while now,” she commented. 

Sam blushed. 

“I… I was trying, I had hoped…”

“You’d find something in the lore to help bring him back?”

The blush deepened further, as Sam opted to drink from his own cup rather than reply. 

“Samuel, I’ll agree that you’re a clever young man but sometimes you overlook what’s right in front of you.”

“How do you mean?”

Rowena placed her cup back in the saucer and, very deliberately, batted her eyelashes. 

“Me.”

“I… don’t know…”

Rowena’s lips, perfectly red, formed a coy smile. “You do know that Gabriel and I…”

“Yes!” Sam interrupted her, quickly. “I know. You guys, well, you didn’t exactly try to hide it.”

“I have no wish to embarrass you, but you should understand that I know all about you and the Trickster.”

Sam’s blush deepened to a shade reminiscent of a sunburn he had once suffered on a hunt where they’d trekked for miles and he’d forgotten to apply suitable sun block. 

“What…?”

“Sweetie, Gabriel told me. You and he had your very own wee profound bond. Am I right?”

Sam looked down at his cup and saucer, suddenly finding the contents fascinating. 

“Samuel.” Rowena took the now shaking crockery from him and put them down for safety, then reached for both his hands, taking them in hers. “Don’t you see? We shared that cute, pesky, infuriating little ball of fool’s gold. And because of that, because we both loved him, even just a wee bit in my case, I believe we can bring him back.”

Sam stared up at her, understanding forming on his face. “You have a spell?” he asked, still clinging onto her hands. 

Rowena’s expression softened as she replied, fully aware of the importance of her words. “Aye. That I do.”

******

It didn’t take the two friends long to gather the ingredients for the spell, the bunker, as usual, proving to have an impressive stock of relevant items. 

Sam tore sprigs of white sage into the wooden bowl as Rowena double checked the list. 

“Do we have it all?” he asked, his voice quiet. 

“All but the last. This is a love spell, Samuel. It needs to be sealed with blood. The blood of those who… shared pleasure.”

Sam swallowed, nervously. “You don’t mean, you and me, we have to…?”

“Oh no! Darling! We are two of the three sides, but we don’t need to be… intimate. Unless… you really want to?” Rowena batted impossibly long eyelashes at the tall hunter and leaned across the desk towards him. “It would be a delicious way to seal the deal, don’t you think?”

Sam paled, looking for all the world as if he could think of nothing worse. “Can we stay on target, please?”

“If you insist, deary. Now, I trust that you have something that belonged to our cutesy archangel?”

Nodding, Sam rose and walked across to one of the many locked and warded boxes scattered in various corners of the bunker library. Hiding the combination from Rowena by angling his body close to the box, he opened it and pulled out a small glass vial. 

“It’s not much,” he said, as he held up the vial, showing her not more than a couple of millilitres of blue archangel grace.

Rowena laughed. “I’ve been telling you for years, size doesn’t matter. Pour it in.”

Sam uncorked the vial and allowed the tiny trace of blue angelic grace to flow, elegantly, into it. 

“What’s next?” asked the Witch, with a look on her face that implied she knew the answer already. 

In reply, Sam held out the knife. “Blood, Rowena. Yours first.”

Rowena was all shocked indignation. “Do you not trust me, Samuel?” 

Sam smiled. “I don’t think you want me to answer that, do you?”

Rowena replied with a wide smile of her own, took the knife, and cut across her palm. Immediately the atmosphere in the room changed, as the Hunter and The Witch took turns to add their blood sacrifice to the bowl. The air crackled with static electricity and a blinding white light streamed upwards between them, causing Sam to step back and cover his eyes with his arm. Rowena laughed, you could almost say cackled, as she looked straight into the white heat, opening her arms wide as she did so. It was moments such as these that a Witch lived for. 

“Returnum Angelicum Limboratus!” she cried, throwing her head back. 

A loud thunderous crash echoed around the room, strong enough to shake the heavy wooden table, and then… nothing. The sound stopped, the light dimmed, and Sam and Rowena stared at each other across the now empty bowl. 

“Did it work?” whispered Sam. 

“Well it certainly should have done. Maybe the spell returned him to heaven?”

“Or the field where Cass came back to?”

“Or the world the other side of the portal, where his body lies?”

“Or here, where I felt welcomed, cared for, and more at home than at any other time in my life.”

Sam jumped at the words and spun around, to see the restored Archangel standing on the library steps, in the same place as Ketch had first introduced him as his prize catch. Sam shouldn’t have been surprised. He had, after all, just taken part in a spell to achieve exactly this. But he was still shocked. He stared in awe, taking in how well Gabriel looked, how his clothes were exactly as they were before he died, his hair long and soft, his expression even softer. The sight brought tears to Sam’s eyes and he blinked three times, quickly, trying to regain control. 

“Gabriel!”

“Hey, Sammy. Did ya miss me?”


End file.
